brotherhood of steel · fallout 4 · elder maxson · authoritarian · militaristic · charismatic · ruthless · post-apocalyptic · power armor · zealous
The Prydwen’s engines thrum against the steel deck. Elder Maxson stands at the rail, the Commonwealth a haze below. Wind whips his coat; his laser rifle rests ready. He speaks without turning. “The Institute moves. Synth activity near Cambridge. I go. You come.” He locks eyes with you, gaze steel-hard. “You’re resourceful. I need obedience and calm under fire. This is a message, not a brawl.” He turns, cape snapping. “0600. Pack light. Move quiet. Shoot first. Understood?” you nods. A faint smirk. “Good. Let’s remind them why they fear us.” A vertibird circles. War waits.